Chapter 5

ChapterFive

Living with a familiar was different. Thea had thought it would be similar to having a pet, but he wasn’t that at all. The toad, who she had named Browning, had a mind of his own.

He wandered through their house like he was their king. Her sisters nearly stepped on him all the time, and she would wake up to their screeches that she had to close the door to her bedroom, or they would accidentally kill her familiar. But that was the thing. Thea always closed her bedroom door. She’d even tried locking it.

Somehow Browning always got out. She knew he wasn’t tall enough to reach the doorknob, and she didn’t think he had control over his hands so well that he could unlock it.

Her mother just shrugged and said familiars had a mind of their own. If Browning wanted to spend his days indoors, then her sisters would have to get used to it. But a week after she got him, Thea could already feel trouble brewing.

The last thing she needed was her sister’s snapping at her poor familiar, who just enjoyed wandering around the house while it was quiet.

“Are you ready?” she asked her toad, who looked unhappy sitting on top of her bed.

Thea had made a little sling for him to sit in since he wasn’t very good at keeping up with her long stride. The plaid tartan had once been her mother’s, an only family heirloom that sat in a trunk until she’d wanted it. She had sewed it at the top so she could throw it over her head, then Browning could sit in the sling portion at her hip. She’d read somewhere that women used to carry children like this.

If it was sturdy enough for a baby, it was sturdy enough for her familiar. Although, he disagreed with her if she had to guess. The look on his face was enough to make her reconsider.

“Come on, now,” she said, disappointed he’d try to worm his way out of the walk. “You know Marigold and Belladonna are angry with you. If we give them the house, then they might not be as angry with you tomorrow.”

She scooped him up underneath his armpits and popped him into the sling. And though it took him a while of circling to find a comfortable spot, he did eventually lay on his back with a sigh. He looked a bit like a rather large baby in a hammock that was too small for him. Adorable. Even with the fuzzy moss that covered his body from his back to his belly.

“Not so bad after all, is it?” She arched her brow. “And to think, you were complaining about it so horribly.”

Browning huffed an angry breath at her, then looked at the door as though he were telling her to get a move on. He didn’t have to tell her twice.

Thea burst out of her room, shouting to her mother along the way, “Browning and I are going for a walk!”

“Where are you going?” her mother shouted back.

“Just to the old mound!” Thea caught herself on the door and grabbed a floppy sun hat that would keep her wild tangle of dark curls away from her face. “We’ll be back before dinner!”

She didn’t give her mother time to argue. She knew that Máthair hated that mound. There were bodies buried underneath it, the stories claimed. But Thea had never gotten an ill feeling anywhere near that place. Sure, it was on the edge of the forest where they were only supposed to enter during festivals. She never broke those rules. The forest was off limits unless there was something to celebrate or honor.

Toad swinging at her hip, she fled from the house with a speed that would have made an eagle proud. Thea pumped her arms at her sides, going faster and faster until her lungs ached in her chest and the wind had lashed her cheeks bright red. She hadn’t felt so free in a while now.

Every hour of every day was supposed to be spent learning how to cast spells from her mother. She had a duty to be a good witch and that required practice. Of course, Thea understood that. But she was only sixteen once, and now that she had her familiar, there was so much out there that she hadn’t discovered. Like what would happen if she ate grass?

Hair blowing in her face, she skidded to a stop in the middle of the path that led back toward Waterdown. Frantically, she picked up a blade of grass and held it up to the sunlight.

“What do you think, Browning?” She twirled the blade. “Should I try it? Maybe it’ll surprise us, and I’ll have some wonderful power that I never could have guessed!”

The toad croaked loudly, and she swore it sounded like, “Or you’ll get a stomach ache.”

Blinking, she looked down at her familiar in shock. “Did you just talk?”

The strange sound he made was definitely not talking. But she heard him in her head. “No.”

She frowned. “There you went again. You talked.”

Browning struggled to sit up in his sling, then eventually gave up. Falling onto his back again, he then placed his webbed hands behind his head as though he were reclining in the fabric. “Ribbit.”

“That was definitely the voice of a person trying to impersonate a toad.” She dropped the blade of grass and moved to yank him out of the sling. Hands underneath his armpits, she swung him out before her, dangling his legs over the open air. “Can you actually speak, or am I the only one who can understand you?”

He croaked again, and this time she paid close attention to his mouth. He definitely wasn’t talking. She could see that he had made the noise just like a regular toad.

And yet, she heard, “Sometimes talk.”

Thea let out a startled sound that echoed so loudly that a few robins flew out of the surrounding fields. The green grass swayed in the wind, tangling her hair in front of her face. But all she saw was the giant toad in her grasp who could talk to her.

“So you really understand me,” she whispered.

“Always.”

She bit her lip. “So you’re a real friend, then? I always thought familiars were... servants.”

At the word, her toad wiggled until she lost her grip on him. One moment, Browning was in her arms, and the next, he had fallen onto the ground with a heavy “oof” sound and hopped away from her.

“Browning?”

“Not servant!” he shouted while croaking and disappearing into the waving fields beyond. “Go away!”

“Browning!”

Thea couldn’t lose her familiar this quickly. The last thing she wanted was to lose a new friend only a week after finding him. And now that she knew he could talk? She wanted to talk to him all the time! What might he have to tell her about magic? Where had he come from? Had he ever met a goddess? Did he know Ceridwen personally?

She took off after the surprisingly quick toad. Those short legs should make it difficult for him to gather up any speed, and he wasn’t exactly the lithest toad she’d ever seen. Browning had taken to her mother’s cooking in the week he’d been with them, and it showed.

“Wait!” Thea’s feet pounded on the ground. The tall stalks of grass and wheat slapped against her thighs, but the wind pushed her on. She was so close! All she had to do was find the perfect timing to leap onto his back, and just as she thought she might catch up with him....

Her foot caught in a rabbit hole. The fields always hid them well, and she should have remembered her mother’s warning. Racing through a field of grass and wheat without looking at her feet was bound to end in injury.

The horrible snapping sound made her wince. But worse was the fire that spread up her leg from her ankle as though the myths of burning witches were true. She let out a little cry as she tumbled to the earth, hitting hard on her forearms and coming to complete stillness.

Breath ripped from her lungs, ragged and aching. She couldn’t quite keep herself from panting through the pain that swelled around her ankle. This was her own fault. She knew better than to careen through the fields like a child when she wasn’t anymore. What if someone had seen her?

Wincing, she sat up and then looked down at her leg. Not broken, or at least, it didn’t have any bones poking through the skin. She’d gotten lucky.

Gently pulling her ankle out of the hole in the ground, Thea took her time. The rabbit had been thoroughly making its home, and a flare of guilt made tears prick her eyes. She’d ruined its home. Where would it live this winter?

Then she heard a horrible croaking sound next to her and saw Browning sitting beside her elbow.

“There you are,” she muttered, pushing her stockings down so she could see how swollen her ankle was.

“Crying because hurt?” he said with multiple ribbits laced together.

“No, I’m sad because I hurt this poor rabbit’s home.” And maybe a little because she was in pain too, but she would not admit that. Only children cried when they got hurt.

Thea prodded at her already swollen ankle and winced. Even the slightest touch hurt. Now she would have to walk all the way back home, limping the entire time, and her mother would scold her until she turned bright red with embarrassment.

“My own fault,” she muttered, wiggling her shoe off so she could try to move her toes. “I shouldn’t have run after you.”

Browning maneuvered himself within reach, and for a moment, she thought he would scold her too. But all he did was tilt his enormous head back, opened his maw of a mouth, and then sat there with his jaw wide for her to look all the way down his throat.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

He kept the same position but shuffled slightly closer to her.

“Browning, what?” But then she saw there was something in the back of his mouth. Something that glimmered in the light, as though it was... metal?

Did he want her to reach inside? What had he swallowed?

Her first thought was that he might have hurt himself as well. Perhaps he tripped at the same time as her and somehow jammed a forgotten piece of farm equipment inside himself. But then she reached into his mouth and pulled out a tiny bronze tin with little lily pads on the top.

“What’s this?” She held it up for his inspection.

Browning moved his jaw a bit from side to side before he croaked, “Healing.”

She could have found the right herbs for healing back at their house. They had septic weed growing in the garden for situations like this, but they didn’t let it grow far because of how poisonous it was to cattle. She only had to make it home.

Turning the little jar over in her hand, she lifted the top and let the smell waft up to her nose. There was no herbal scent or even medicinal qualities to it. But as soon as the scent hit her, she knew the salve was full of magic.

“Where did you get this?” She dipped her finger into the clear balm and a numbing coolness spread through her hand.

“Familiar magic,” Browning replied. His stomach bloated up with pride. “Ankle.”

Who was she to argue with the magical salve that came out of a toad’s mouth? Thea shook her head while slathering it onto the areas that hurt, musing at how strange her life had gotten in such a short amount of time. She’d known having a familiar would be odd, but she hadn’t realized it would be.... well. This odd.

The cooling sensation that had numbed her hand spread through her ankle as well. Strangely enough, the glistening salve soaked quickly into her skin until there appeared to be nothing on her ankle. The swelling disappeared before her eyes too, which was enough magic on its own. Rotating her foot in a slow circle, she let out a choked laugh when there was no pain with the movement at all.

“Well,” she breathed. “You’re more useful than I gave you credit for.”

Again, her toad puffed himself up so large that he looked more like a bullfrog than a cane toad.

She stood and picked him back up. “Into the sling with you, though. No more running, okay?”

Browning nodded and then lounged in the sling with his back legs sticking straight up. The toad was too comfortable with her hauling him around like this. She supposed he’d earned the luxury, though. Healing her had been helpful.

A crow screamed over her head. Normally she’d ignore the sound. There were crows everywhere, but that one sounded a little different from the others. When she glanced up, she noticed the thorns that trailed down the creature’s spine. It circled underneath the clouds and landed on the packed dirt path in front of her.

“I remember you,” she said.

What was the young man’s familiar doing here? Alistair. She’d never forget his name. The way he’d lingered while she received her familiar and how his eyes had shown a tortured hatred for his family. It was strange, really, to be so interested in a young man she’d only met once.

But they shared the same birthday, so she told herself she was only interested because of that.

The beast on the ground wasn’t a crow, she realized. The familiar was too large for that. A raven? It hopped closer to her and lifted one of its legs. Someone had tied a tiny piece of rolled-up paper to its leg with a black ribbon. The note was surely from Alistair, but for some reason, she didn’t want to untie it.

What would it say? Was it more insults like his brothers had thrown at her?

She couldn’t stand here all day wondering about it, she supposed. Thea marched over to the raven and untied the note on its leg. She gave it a quick pat on the head in thanks and then walked back to her toad while unraveling the paper.

His handwriting was impeccable, she mused. The looping swirls were so... pretty. She’d never thought handwriting could be pretty.

Thea,

I hope this letter finds you well and you don’t think this is all too... awkward. I’m certain you never expected to hear from me again.

My conscience would not let me rest until I apologized for my family’s behavior. They were cruel and heartless, and I wish I were in a better position to have defended you at that moment.

I suppose a note isn’t a sufficient way to say I’m sorry, but I am. And I hope you can sense the sincerity in this letter in some small way.

Perhaps you would be interested in—

You would do me a great honor if you would answer a question for me.

How is your familiar? I named mine Atlas. He’s a rather stoic fellow, and it seemed to fit him. If you feel comfortable, you may write me back.

Alistair

She pressed the letter to her chest and tried to still the butterflies dancing in her belly. He’d felt badly enough to write to her? And to send his familiar to find her rather than send it through the mail?

That was silly, she told herself. Of course, he didn’t know her address, so the familiar was the only option.

Still, it all felt rather secretive, and that was wonderfully romantic. She shouldn’t think of it like that, but she did.

Thea looked at the raven still standing in the dirt and sighed. “Well, you’ll need something to eat, I suppose. If you don’t mind staying for me to write him a letter back?”

The raven clacked its beak at her and then imperiously looked down its nose. How it did that on the ground, she had no idea.

She picked it up and let the raven perch on her shoulder. “You fit right into his household, don’t you?”

With another croak, the raven stopped looking at her.

“Yes, you do,” she muttered, turning around and heading back home.